Chapter 125

On Sunday afternoon of Gao San, they got off school for a full six hours of holiday!

As soon as school let out at noon, Li Hua and Ma Guojun made plans to head straight to the internet cafe.

At the last moment, they asked Jiang Nian one more time.

"You coming?"

Jiang Nian could see how much the two boys wanted to play games with their father, failing to understand his苦心 in finding them a stepmother—he was willing to tarnish his own image just to have dinner with Zhi Bao.

"I'm staying home."

"Get lost! Bad luck!"

"Come on, let's go, ignore him."

Huang—no, Yao Beibei came over, greeted Zhang Nenzhi, then left. She always slept through Saturday and Sunday afternoons, not waking until five p. m.

Old Liu arrived carrying a bag of phones; the boarding students swarmed him.

Most turned in old phones or spares—those that wheezed when powered on, blazed a dazzling white light, then finally spat out a水墨G3.

Honestly, it looked kind of nice.

Chen Yunyun had just picked up her own phone and was helping her group leader grab his—when she saw his broken flip phone missing a key, she couldn't keep her composure.

"Group leader, don't go too far."

"What's wrong? Are you discriminating against me for being poor?" Lin Dong, lately close to Jiang Nian and picking up a bit of his wisdom, said, "Old Liu didn't say anything."

Chen Yunyun's little bean of sweat broke out—what kind of people surrounded her?

She let out a soft huff, picked up her Huawei flip phone, and gently pushed her slender thumb upward—the glide was silky smooth, revealing the keys beneath.

Unlike Lin Dong, she wasn't one to fake it. Using a phone even a grandmother would scorn as a placeholder was disrespectful to the teacher.

Her flip phone actually worked—and looked great.

Sun Zhicheng stayed seated after school, his heart a tangle of bitterness and longing. He had sacrificed too much just to go out with Chen Yunyun.

The gym where Sun Jianguo got his membership had been smashed by a gang a few days ago and was still awaiting resolution.

He spent a full hour last night pestering his father at home, begging for massages and fruit cuts. At 1:30 a. m., he still softly knocked on the door: "Dad, you asleep?"

Sun Jianguo couldn't take it: "Not asleep—I was just dreaming I was chatting with your great-grandma. Fine, spit it out."

Hesitant, Sun Zhicheng voiced his small request. Sun Jianguo was quick—he called his friend that night and got several internal vouchers.

Back at his seat.

Sun Zhicheng's face showed no expression, but inside he'd already scripted a full Korean drama: he was so deeply affectionate, gentle to his very bones.

After last time's lesson, he felt he'd matured into a real man.

A man should be carefree: loving a flower doesn't mean plucking it. Loving someone means giving them freedom, walking beside them, keeping your gaze far ahead.

Sun Zhicheng had braced himself to endure Jiang Nian and Chen Yunyun's playful antics—but he'd just left outright. So he really wasn't coming.

Good. One less rival.

Just then, Wang Yuhe strode over like a white goose, scanned his thin arms and legs, then tilted his head.

"Sun Zhicheng, you going too?"

"Huh? What's up?" He sensed skepticism in Wang Yuhe's tone.

"Oh, nothing—actually, you really should train. You look a bit like…" Wang Yuhe trailed off, frantically searching his mind, then remembered a word Jiang Nian had used.

"Little Nanliang."

Sun Zhicheng stared blankly. Little Nanliang?

What the hell!

He needed training? What nonsense! He was still stronger than any girl!

He struck a muscle-flexing pose—but no explosive frog-like bulge appeared in his mind, only pale, slender Nanliang arms.

Fine. The people of Zhennan—besides their bride price—had genes that were all concentrated.

Being thin isn't abnormal, is it?

Wait, why am I even making bride-price jokes?

Blame Jiang Nian!

Jiang Nian really had corrupted the class's culture: before, they insulted classmates with "idiot." Now they had a new pet name: "Thirty-Eight-ten Thousand Guinan."

Old Liu had once tried to stop it.

"Classmates, you're not joking—you're shaping your own futures."

The fate of Zhennan people: mineral water flows to Shenzhen, Hong Kong—and so do they, heading south.

The motto: hometown in your heart, but your phone never connects. Better to build another province than spend your life single.

Go to Fujian, go to Hunan, go to Anhui—or, with loyal tunes playing, pack your bedding and line up with your bucket.

Principal, give the order!

Head south! Guangdong!

At the school gate, Jiang Nian waited under a tree for Zhang Nenzhi.

The girl was shy, too embarrassed to walk with him openly. Before school ended, she'd slipped him a note asking him to wait for her at the gate.

Jiang Nian found this slightly ridiculous.

It's just dinner. Not a date.

He'd been waiting ten minutes already—if she didn't show soon, he'd faint from hunger. Back when he was most "farmer," waiting for the Arena of Valor season pass update hadn't been this painful.

Luckily, Zhang Nenzhi appeared furtively, popping out from the school gate.

"Let's go."

"Huh? You really mean walk?" Jiang Nian asked. "Should I borrow an e-bike? It'll be a bit tight with two, but I'm used to hardship."

Zhang Nenzhi's face flushed instantly. "Bus. There's a stop over there."

"Huh? Isn't it supposed to be Dongshun?" Jiang Nian spotted the blind spot.

Dongshun isn't far from school—you could walk there even if you were staggering. The price is a bit luxurious for students, but both of them shouldn't exceed thirty-five tops.

"No, it's another place."

"Huh?"

"Because I felt it wasn't quite proper to take you to Dongshun, so I took the liberty of changing the location," Zhang Nengzhi said, glancing at him and explaining softly.

In the afternoon sunlight, dappled across the street, the two walked side by side, keeping a slight distance.

"Is it to avoid classmates?" he asked.

"No no no!" Zhang Nengzhi hurriedly waved her hands as he misunderstood, "It's not what you think—it's because Dongshun is packed with teachers on weekends."

What's so scary about teachers? Does Zhennan High even crack down on early romance?

"It's just a classmate having a meal together—shouldn't that be fine?" Jiang Nian asked curiously. "They act like a couple sneaking off to Zhennan North Market every day."

So cautious—you clearly have no experience. Ever heard of 'blind spot under the lamp'? Many couples just meet in the back rows of the classroom, cover themselves with a coat, and start right away.

Pure open strategy: look and you'll think they're perverts; don't look and you're part of their thrill-seeking ritual.

"No no, not that," Zhang Nengzhi waved her hands, uttering a line befitting her status: "I found a better restaurant—one with seafood."

Glug, Jiang Nian swallowed his saliva with zero dignity.

His card held nearly two hundred thousand, yet why did his saliva still betray him at the word 'seafood'? In Zhennan's backwater, seafood was damn rare.

"Does Zhennan even have seafood?" Jiang Nian abandoned all dignity, nearly saying, "Please support me," "What kind of seafood? Is it expensive?"

"It's not too bad—my dad has a consumption card, so we won't have to pay much," Zhang Nengzhi said, deliberately mentioning the card to reassure the starving Jiang Nian.

"Actually, it's a bit far—in the city."

"Huh? That far?" Jiang Nian froze.

"It's about an hour's drive," Zhang Nengzhi said, pursing her lips.

She'd wanted to take a taxi—the bus ride, over forty minutes of jolting, was unbearable. Not to save money, but to avoid making Jiang Nian feel pressured by the meal.

It was like riding a tricycle to buy a Rolex—there's beauty in knowing when to spend.

"Let's take a taxi—I'll pay," Jiang Nian volunteered, scrolling on his phone. "It'll take twenty minutes, but there aren't many ride-hailing cars in Zhennan."

"Mm," Zhang Nengzhi nodded, already worrying over every detail.

Bad start.

She'd planned this meal for a long time—including choosing the restaurant. Dongshun wasn't bad, but it was too crowded.

It wouldn't show her sincerity at all, especially since it was the first time she'd ever invited a boy to eat.

Later, she'd remember: eating small-portion dishes at Dongshun.

No!

Zhang Nengzhi stood frozen by the roadside, filled with regret—she'd forgotten to consider transportation. She should've had her dad pretend to be a relative and drop them off; Jiang Nian didn't know him anyway.

It's just a meal.

Jiang Nian stared at his ride-hailing app—the white circle spun, summoning a driver. Xieji Ba spun for three minutes before a driver finally accepted.

"Phew, car's here," Jiang Nian waved to Zhang Nengzhi.

"Okay," Zhang Nengzhi smiled brightly again.

Honestly, Jiang Nian thought she had a bit of a sweet-girl vibe.

But so far, her traits weren't obvious. Judging by her: twin tails, a short skirt, white tights, black metal-framed glasses—she could max out the archetype.

During the wait, Zhang Nengzhi, who had nothing to say once outside school, finally pulled out her English 3500-word book from her bag.

Jiang Nian glanced at her, then pulled out his physics test paper and Baoke gel pen from his pocket.

Everyone around me is a study beast.

Bam!

A white BYD, perfectly suited for Chinese kids, pulled up to the curb.

Jiang Nian and Zhang Nengzhi sat together in the back seat, gave their phone number endings. It was probably an illusion, but the driver seemed to smile—as if saying:

Another couple.

Jiang Nian didn't care; he懒得解释. He'd wait until his buddy pulled out his test paper in the car.

But the driver clearly didn't give him the chance—he started chatting.

"You two are from the county high school, right? Gao San?"

"How do you know?" Jiang Nian blinked.

"Hahaha, Gao San students from your school all have this kind of spirit," the driver beamed. "You two? Clearly top students."

"Not really," Jiang Nian averaged himself down.

As he spoke, he glanced sideways at Zhang Nengzhi, who'd been silent since boarding. He caught her lips twitching slightly—and panicked.

Zhi Bao, you look down on people with five hundred points too, don't you!

Fine fine fine—I'm getting out.

"Wow, that high?" The driver clearly knew his stuff. "My kid's taking the Gaokao too—he struggles to hit four hundred. I keep nagging him to study."

"It's fine—grades aren't that important," Jiang Nian said the standard line every Gao Zhongsheng recites.

"That's true—if you can't study, there's nothing you can do," the driver said, driving. "In Zhennan, if you can't study, you've got to go work elsewhere."

"All the good local jobs are taken. Everywhere you can make money's already full. Bride prices? They're skyrocketing—tens of thousands every year."

"It's not that bad—Zhennan's actually pretty good," Jiang Nian said, rare praise for his hometown—he was careful speaking to outsiders.

My lord's hypocrisy is extreme—his words are just noise. The subtext is everywhere.

Like: "Let me say something from my heart" means "I'm about to lie to this fool." "Let me be fair" means "I'm going to take sides."

Hypocrisy, or tsundere—it's all the same.

When the other person is cursing up a storm, you can't really curse along with them. It looks like you're agreeing with him for a couple of lines, but in a moment he'll get anxious — that's a political correctness unique to people from Zhennan.

"You're local students, right? It's a bit better in the county seat, not so expensive. Find a rich girlfriend, and you might not have to spend a single cent."

After saying that, the driver burst out laughing, "Ha ha ha."

One sentence made the whole back seat awkward. Zhang Ningzhi leaned back in her seat with her head lowered. Jiang Nian simply stopped talking — better to pull out the test paper. This middle-aged man, honestly.

It's really like an old lady burrowing into the quilt — made things awkward for me.

With a bang, Jiang Nian shut the car door.

Surrounded by the bustling crowd, the two stood on the roadside outside the downtown shopping district, the atmosphere still a little awkward.

"Um. How do we get there? Want to pull up navigation?"

"Oh, oh." Zhang Ningzhi fumbled with her phone, the tips of her ears slightly red, visibly blushing.

No way, this makes it even more awkward.

"That driver's mouth is really something — middle-aged men just love making stuff up when they're bored." Jiang Nian first pinned the blame on the driver, then slapped a "making stuff up" label on it.

Although what he said was true — people from Zhennan really care about keeping up with the Joneses. The well-off join forces with the well-off, the poor exploit each other, terrified their descendants might do well.

Still, Jiang Nian had to offer a critical negation. Because he'd told too many bride-price hell jokes before, he was afraid Zhang Ningzhi might think he had ulterior motives.

Zhang Ningzhi glanced at Jiang Nian a few times, then looked away, stammering.

"R-right."

Seeing this, Jiang Nian felt even more exasperated. Forget it, let it all burn.

Anyway, he's usually this abstract anyway, so whatever.

"Let's go in, it's on the fourth floor." Zhang Ningzhi pressed her lips together, arms and legs moving in sync.

On the escalator, Jiang Nian simply stopped talking too. He just stared at Zhang Ningzhi beside him, occasionally glancing at passersby, then shifting his gaze back.

Zhang Ningzhi naturally noticed the change in Jiang Nian's attitude and grew nervous too. She really wanted to say something, but... it seemed her ability to find topics was very weak.

She felt like she wasn't at school — like an idiot.

"Jiang Nian."

"Hmm?"

"That driver actually said... actually wasn't wrong either." She said, squirming.

Jiang Nian was curious. "That driver said a whole lot along the way — international affairs, reminiscing about the past, even gossip about the leadership. Hmm... which part are you referring to?"

"J-just the bride-price part." Coincidentally the escalator reached the fourth floor. Zhang Ningzhi felt her face burning as thin as paper, and said softly.

"When my older cousin got married, they didn't take any bride price, and even gave a house and car in the provincial capital."

Jiang Nian listened as he walked, rubbed his face, and thought through every sad thing that had happened in his eighteen years before finally suppressing the corners of his mouth that wanted to curl up.